Wisniowe Pocalunki
by the Zoshi
Summary: [Goth!Kenny Grrrly!Kyle PunkAlternative!Cartman][AU] Is unrequited love a must for a goth? Will it turn out how you want it, or will it all go to hell in a handbasket... because, you know, some things just aren't meant to be. [6 16 2007]
1. Cherry Kisses

Disclaimer: I don't own SP or the boys, although I'd like to. Or something. They belong to Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios.

AN:  
SHOUNEN AI

KennyXKyle

GothKennyxGrrlyKyle

PunkAlternative Cartmen

If the previous did not scare you, then feel free to keep reading.  
Hard to categorize this, hmm…

Anyways, Goth!Kenny, Grrrly!Kyle (different from Gurly!Kyle, you'll see why) and yeah. XD I've been promising this so yeah.

ENJOY

PS: Wisniowe Pocalunki Cherry-Flavored Kisses in Polish. It sounds better than in English, and I also wanted to be witty. Everyone's using Latin for their diff.languaged titles! Well, I used Polish! SO HAH!

* * *

Title: Wisniowe Pocalunki 

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

* * *

The sky was just beginning to darken as they started on their second cigarettes. Cartman took a few harsh puffs before letting the smoke drift out of his open mouth into the clear night air. The roof shingles didn't make the best seats, really, but they didn't care much. Kenny took another long drag on his cigarette, watching the smoke float lazily up above him as AFI's "I Wanna Mohawk" belted out through the open window behind them. 

"I still don't get it, Kenneh," Cartman grunted, shifting on the uneven surface beneath them. "I don't get why the fuck you put up with this crap…"

"You just don't understand what it means to really love someone," Kenny said, looking over at the other boy. Cartman dragged his fingers through his short, spiky hair, gave Kenny a look that spoke of extreme patience.

"All right, sure, so you love -" Cartman had to grit his teeth to manage to spit out the next word, "_Him_, that doesn't mean you have to put up with his bullshit all the time."

"…It's not all the time…" Kenny began quietly, but Cartman cut him off.

"I know, yeah, I know that this whole… _unrequited love_ deal goes hand in hand with the whole goth-boy thing you got going on," Cartman said, eyeing Kenny's skull choker and black clothes. "I know it all fits in, alright? But come on, dude, take a step back and take a long hard fucking look at the situation."

He glared at Kenny, sternly, but the black-clad boy merely gave him that blank, weathered stare that seemed to be a prerequisite for all Goths.

"I know you'd do anything to keep him with you. Fuck, you've already started doing it," Cartman shook his head, but his words made Kenny cringe.

"Yeah, like what?" He shot back, nonchalant and amused, taking another drag on his cigarette.

"Don't act fucking snotteh with me, Kenneh. You and me and half the town know that you didn't dye your hair black just to keep with the whole 'goth' fad, alright?" Cartman growled at him, staring off into the distance angrily. The smoke clouds in front of him increased, like a coal train speeding down the tracks. "You're just fucking luckeh you got blue eyes, or maybe you'd have to get contacts or something."

Kenny's hands clenched into fists, and for a moment he thought he felt like he was going to turn around and punch the other boy. Instead he bit down on his cigarette, hard, and forced himself to relax.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" He said, but it came out strained. Cartman grunted to himself, twisting to point the radios remote through the window and skip "Clove Smoking Catharsis". Kenny heard him mutter something about 'wimpy goth music" before finally settling on "Kill Caustic".

"I swear to God, Kenneh, you got to learn to like some normal music…" Cartman turned back around, looking over at Kenny. The former-blond was trying to make smoke rings in the air, and most likely trying to forget their conversation. Cartman gritted his teeth, fiddling with his studded leather armband a little before finally speaking.

"Look, Kenneh, I know you think I'm just saying this because I don't… 'cause I don't like… fuck, Kenneh," Cartman growled in exasperation, "He's not even doing it for the kicks! I mean, shit, he just needs someone there to fuck around with when he gets in the mood, that's all. As soon as he gets Stan to put his hands in his pants you're out of the fucking picture! You'll be fucking gone, Kenneh, and it won't matter how many times you went when he called you or how many times you waited for hours for him to show up, it won't matter for shit!"

"Shut up," Kenny said, in a voice more controlled than he felt himself being. He stared very hard at a distant point, trying to push Cartman's voice into the background, trying to just make it noise instead of words, something he could ignore.

"No, no, I am not going to shut up, you little fuck, you're going to fucking listen to me," Cartman was really getting riled up, but then he usually did when they breached this subject. Therefore, Kenny found it a relief when his cellphone started ringing, and he answered it without a pause.

"Yo," He hadn't checked the caller ID, but there wasn't any need. There really was only one person who called him anyways.

"Hey babe, what're you doing?" The voice on the other end said cheerfully.

"Uh, I'm just, you know, hanging out…" Kenny started stalling, trying not to say where he really was. And here he'd been relieved to have to answer the phone. Really, why was it that he always got asked that question when he didn't want it to be asked? Not to mention, Cartman was still sitting a few feet away from him, fixing him with a hard-eyed glare that was only made scarier by the fact that the boy had the cigarette in his teeth and was letting the smoke float out his nose. Kenny looked away from him, envisioning Cartman suddenly turning into a dragon and frying him then and there, and tried desperately to think of a workable excuse.

"You're at Cartman's, aren't you." The tone had changed, and the voice was icy now.

"Yeah, yeah, but I was just leaving, actually," Kenny said quickly, scooting back towards the bedroom window. "Yeah, I was going to call you, see if you were home already or not… Are you?"

"I just got back! Man was it awesome, I'll tell you all about it when you get here," The voice was bubbly happy again. Kenny could hear drawers being opened, and something that sounded like cabinet doors opening and closing. "Aw, man, we don't have anything to eat in this house. Babe, can you stop by the store on your way over? Just pick up anything, you know what I like."

"Sure, I'll do that…" Kenny said, a little breathlessly as he crawled in through the window and dropped to the floor. "I'll see you in a few."

"Okay babe, later!"

Kenny flipped his cell shut, moving towards the door as he did so to keep Cartman from trying to grab him, like he did the time before.

"You stupid little fucking bitch, I swear, one day I'm gonna take that fucking cell and throw it in fucking Stark's Pond…" Cartman growled behind him, having followed suit and come back into the room. Instead of following Kenny, he'd stopped at the radio and was changing playlists on the Creative Zen hooked up to it. Kenny paused at the door as Slipknot came blasting on, looked back at the brownhaired boy uncertainly.

"I'll, uh, I'll call you, or something…" he said, hand on the doorknob. Cartman grunted, not turning to look at him.

"Just fuck off Kenneh, I can't even look at you anymore, gawd, you make me fucking sick…" And with that he grabbed the rest of his pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and crawled back out through his window onto the roof.

Kenny sighed, opening the door and heading out into the hallway. Fuck, it really was a bitch trying to please everyone.

* * *

The backdoor was open, so Kenny let himself in. The lights in the kitchen were on, as were the ones in the hallway and the living room. He set the bag of snacks on the table and started unpacking it. He could hear someone moving around upstairs. 

"Dude, that catch you made totally rocked. No, no way man, nuh-uh… I'm telling you! You were like fucking lightning out there today, I fucking swear…"

Kenny looked up as Kyle rounded the corner. The redhead grinned when he saw him, waved, and Kenny managed a grin back.

"Aw, all right man, say hi to your parents from me… later." Kyle snapped his cell shut, then made his way over to the table to see what Kenny had bought. "Oooo, you got the good Ho-Ho's! I've been looking for them for, like, a month now!"

"Yeah, they just got a shipment…" Kenny said, watching as Kyle opened the box and took out one of the cellophane wrapped cakes. He leaned back against the counter as he ripped open the plastic, taking a bite of the cake with such a heavenly expression of ecstasy that Kenny almost laughed, if not for the fact that it looked totally hot. Low Sugar junk food that tasted as good as the regular kind just had that sort of effect on the boy.

Kenny took the moment to look at him, without having to worry about being caught staring. The redhead was wearing his usual football-game-watching attire, meaning he had on his well-fitted hip huggers, a tight short sleeved raglan (white with dark purple sleeves) that stopped just a few inches above his pant line, and, of course, his lime green ushanka. The last, however, was set aside as soon as Kyle had finished his Ho-Ho and realized he still had it on.

"That was just so fucking amazingly good, you can't even imagine…" He said, walking over to wrap his arms around Kenny's neck. He grinned at him, eyes shining. "Thanks babe."

"No problem…" Kenny answered back, letting his arms rest on the redhead's sides. Kyle was in a good mood, and that was good, as long as Kenny didn't start thinking overly long on _why_ he was in such a good mood. Suddenly, he remembered something. "Oh, yeah, hold on a sec…"

"What?" Kyle asked, curious, as Kenny pushed him away a little and reached into his pocket.

"Here," he said, holding something up. Kyle gasped, grabbing at the little cylinder.

"Ohmaigawd Kenny! Where'd you find this?!" Kyle grinned down at the object with unbridled joy.

"Oh, you know, I just went around to a few places… here and there…" Kenny tilted his head forward, letting his bangs cover his eyes and looking at Kyle from behind them. He decided not to mention just how far and wide those "here and there" places were and instead focus on how adorably cute Kyle looked at the moment.

"Cherry Blast is my favorite!" Kyle almost squealed, like a girl, at that moment, but managed not to. At least, not entirely. Kenny grinned, but fact was fact. Kyle was such a girly boy.

The redhead bounced over to the counter, where he turned the toaster around and used it for a mirror so he could put on the lipgloss. He looked at himself seriously in the makeshift mirror, turning this way and that to make sure it looked good. Finally he stood up and turned to Kenny.

"Whaddya think?" He said, grinning.

"Looks great," Kenny said. Kyle grinned wider.

"You sure?" He asked, stepping closer.

"Definitely," Kenny replied.

Kyle came even closer, leaned in to give Kenny one of those kisses that linger on in the mind for days after. It was hard to focus after, but Kenny somehow managed to find the grey-green of Kyle's eyes. The redhead smiled, almost leering.

"How's it taste?" He asked softly.

"…like cherries…" Kenny answered just as softly. Amusement sparkled through Kyle's eyes, and he laughed as he leaned in again.

Cherry-flavored or not, Kyle's kisses always managed to plow into Kenny like semis and leave him gasping for air. The longer they lasted the harder it was to let go. And when Kyle's hands joined in, traveling up inside Kenny's shirt like they were doing now, and when Kyle's hips moved against his own, grinding crotch against crotch like _they_ were doing now, he was sure he could die from the pounding of his heart.

Kyle pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling as he caught his breath. Kenny had his arms around him, holding fast, unwilling to let go lest the moment was lost for ever.

Kyle didn't say anything, just smiled, a slow, dangerously beautiful smile, and unlatched Kenny's arms from his waist. Holding one of his hands, he pulled Kenny out of the kitchen and led the way upstairs and into his bedroom. Kenny closed the door behind them, clicking the button to lock the door as he did. Kyle let go of his hand, reaching to pull Kenny's shirt off over his head. Kenny let him, just like he let him pull him over and onto the bed. Straddling the blue-eyed boy, Kyle pulled his own shirt off, tossing it aside. Kenny stared up at him in open admiration, taking in the smooth creaminess of his skin and lines of his body. Gray-green eyes shone above him, the fires burning behind them strong enough to burn him if he wasn't careful, and, most of the time, he wasn't.

Kyle's smiled hadn't changed, and now he was running his hands down Kenny's chest, fingers trailing feather light down his stomach. He leaned forward, capturing Kenny's black-painted lips in another earth-shattering, hungry kiss, tongues searching, twisting around each other. Kenny brought one hand up, fingers twining in Kyle's curly hair, the other hand traveling down the middle of his back. Kyle let out a half-moan, working at getting rid of Kenny's belt, his groping fingers, mostly off-target, only making it harder for the other boy to keep his control.

Neither one could wait much longer. Raw emotions flew high, and thoughts began to disappear and fade as time pressed on. Nothing but feeling and action existed at that moment. Nothing but what was happening, then and there, was real. Nothing but them, their bodies, slick with sweat, pushing and moving against each other, fighting for and striving for and racing towards the ultimate epic pinnacle that would resound through to their very souls.


	2. ILU

Disclaimer: I don't own SP or the boys, although I'd like to. Or something. They belong to Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios.

AN:  
More! MORE!

XD Shamless plug: If you like Angst, go check out my story **Angina** and let me know what you think! It doesn't have any reviews… D: Its kinda sad…

Anyways, this chapter was fun. I hope you enjoy it…

Thanks to:

SunglassesANDunicorns: XD Grrrly!Kyle is cute as a button, really… until he gets mad… O: then its best to just stay away from him, I think…

Helsinki Demon: I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! I hope you like this one too… :3

Ren85: You know, the thing is that Kenny and Cartman are sorta defaulted to each other, Stan and Kyle are BFF, so its sorta like these two have no other choice… But I think that really, as time goes on, even in canon they'd end up being good friends because I think that in a way they would really get to understand each other… uh, sorta difficult to explain, but yeah, I like them as good friends too…Well, and I hope you enjoy this chapter:D

REVIEW AND I WILL SHOWER YOU WITH TELEPATHIC LOVE!

* * *

Title: Wisniowe Pocalunki 

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

* * *

Kenny watched as Kyle tackled Stan from behind. The boys toppled over onto the wet grass, laughing and cursing, wrestling over the football. Stan finally knocked the skinnier boy off of him, standing up with the ball held triumphantly up over his head. 

"Ha! I win again!" Stan exclaimed happily, then proceeded to do a dance that involved some football-pelvic-thrusts and some ass shaking. Kyle stuck his tongue out at him, crossing his arms.

"You're a loser…" The redhead laughed as Stan continued his little dance.

"D'ya think they'd let me do it in the end zone?" Stan laughed.

Kyle didn't reply, just continued watching Stan as he finished his dance.

Kenny gritted his teeth, black-painted nails digging into his skin as he clenched his hands. There was a glint in Kyle's eyes, a shimmer that he'd never seen directed at him. He hungered for it, craved it like an addict. He wanted it so badly it tore him apart, and… and there was Stan, totally oblivious to the look of pure adoration being shot his way by his best friend.

It made Kenny want to hate someone. He couldn't hate Stan, that was obvious. Stan had no idea what was going on, Stan had no reason to suspect that such a look was even being directed at him by anyone other than the female half of the population.

But, he couldn't hate Kyle. He loved Kyle. He loved him with every fiber of his being. He went to sleep loving him and he woke up loving him. Every breath he took, ever thing he did, all of it was full of his love for him. It was, as Cartman put it, _sappy crap,_ that, according to him, a guy shouldn't be feeling, much less telling his best friend about, but it was true.

So that left only one person to hate. The road the he'd taken to get to the final point wasn't apparent to him. The fact that he should hate himself was as normal and logical to him as if Kyle had come up and told him personally, himself, that that was the problem. That it was all Kenny's fault that he couldn't get Kyle to love him back. That it was his fault that his hair wasn't black enough, that his eyes weren't blue enough, that he wasn't as buff or as funny or as charming as Stan. That it was his fault that he never would be.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned his head, his eyes meeting Kyle's. The redhead was grinning at him, messed up curls falling over his eyes in the most adorable way ever, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering brightly.

Kyle was happy. Kyle was, actually, very, _very_, happy. He got to play ball and wrestle around with Stan, which was the epitome of awesome. And he also got to hang on Kenny every time they took a break, and make him kiss the pain away whenever he got a scrape or bruise.

Of course, as much fun as it was, he was also extremely careful not to do anything to much with Kenny. Stan was there, after all, and it wouldn't do much good if he thought they were totally serious for each other.

Which they weren't, of course.

"C'mon Kenny, are you just going to sit here all afternoon?" Kyle asked, pulling a bit on Kenny's arm. The former-blonde resisted, glancing out of the tree shadow he sat in at the sun in the sky. He didn't really want to go out there; for some reason the sun made him twitch a bit. Kyle wouldn't take no for an answer, and dragged him up off the ground and out into the sun.

"Kenny, finally!" Stan grinned happily at him. "Okay, here's the rules, whoever gets the ball over past those trashcans wins."

"Wins what?" Kyle asked, excited.

"Uh, wins… wins…" Stan started thinking.

"Ice cream." Kenny offered. Stan grinned.

"Yeah, ice cream!" He agreed, tossing the football into the air a few times. Kyle frowned at them.

"Ice cream?" He said with distaste.

"Yeah, the full sugar kind." Kenny said teasingly. Kyle pouted, but he continued. "So, even if you win, Stan and me will still get it."

"Yeah, and you'll just have to settle for eating the cone it comes in…" Stan laughed.

Kyle glared at them both, crossing his arms and tapping his foot angrily.

"Fine. Go. Play. Have your ice cream." He said, looking off in a different direction. Stan looked at Kenny, raising an eyebrow and grinning. Kenny just shrugged back.

"All right then, but I guess I'll have to eat that pack of Ho-Ho's I stole from your house all by myself…" Stan said sadly. Kyle snapped back to attention, staring at Stan in disbelief.

"You didn't." He said, shocked. Stan grinned, nodding. The next second he was tossing the ball to Kenny as a very angry Kyle streaked towards him growling curses.

Kenny caught the ball easily, and, after watching the two push and shove each other for a little bit, put it down on the ground and walked off. They wouldn't miss him, and he had the sudden urge to be alone for a little while.

He headed down the sidewalk, away from the park next to Stark's Pond and towards the town main. It was warm summer day, unusually warm, and most of the town's population was outside, drinking in the sun and warmth. Kenny stopped at a corner, waiting for the light to change. A couple stopped next to him, holding hands and whispering to each other. The guy pulled his girlfriend closer, giving her a light kiss on the cheek, and she giggled, throwing her arms around his waist happily.

Kenny looked away, his jaw clenching.

The light changed, and he hurried across the intersection, swearing at the sun for being so damned hot when it knew he was going to be dressed in black. Dragging a hand across his forehead, he didn't look where he was going and ran into a bench at the side of the road. He righted himself, and got an eyeful of the make-out session happening on it.

Managing to stumble away, he took cover in a shady alleyway between two buildings. Leaning back against the wall, he took a deep breath to calm down. It didn't help, his heart still pounded and his head was still ringing. He wished he could find some other excuse for it, but he couldn't, not anymore. He'd spent months, _months_, with Kyle, doing whatever he wanted, going whenever he called. It had seemed like a miracle when Kyle had come to him, asked him to go out with him. It had been a shock, too, since he was definite that Kyle was thoroughly taken with his best friend. People could change, he'd thought, but it didn't take long before he realized that he was just a substitute, nothing more than a convenient distraction.

He let out a groan, sliding down to the asphalt, and buried his face in his hands. Cartman was right. This was all just a charade, a farce. None of it was real, none of it actually meant something. He'd been playing along with it because it was his chance to be close, to _really_ be close to Kyle. But that hadn't been Kyle's reason. That wasn't why Kyle had started this whole act.

He felt sick inside. His stomach was twisting around itself, his insides were writhing in agony. He didn't want it to be like this, he didn't. He wanted to be with Kyle, but he wanted Kyle to be with him, to _be with him_, and not because he couldn't get Stan. Just because he wanted to.

His hand fumbled in his pant pocket for a moment before pulling out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he speed dialed 3 and waited for someone to pick up.

"Yeah, wha-"

"I'm going to tell him." Kenny's soft voice interrupted before Cartman could finish. There was a slight pause at the other end of the line, as if the other person wasn't sure they'd heard clearly.

"What." It sounded more of a statement than a question.

"I'm… I'm going to tell him." Kenny repeated, just as softly as before. Cartman breathed heavily into his phone before speaking.

"Kenneh….Kenneh, are you sure? Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, his voice low but not as hard as Kenny thought it would be.

"Yeah." Kenny replied, looking down at his shoes. The threads were starting to come out of one of them.

"Look, Kenneh, I know I'm always telling you that this whole quote-un-quote relationship thing you guys have is fucked up, but… but you do understand what can happen, right?" Cartman asked, serious. "You do know that this could fuck everything up? I mean, I know just how fucking devoted you are to him, Kenneh..."

"…I know Cartman…" Kenny said after a moment, "But I have to. I have to say it, I feel… I feel like, if I don't, I'm just going to… I don't know, implode or something… I need to get it out. I… I need to tell him…"

His voice dropped to a whisper by the end, and he closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. He was overcome with emotions, just thinking about Kyle and how much he meant to him. He'd do anything for him, anything at all, and he wanted to tell him. He needed to tell him. He couldn't keep it in any longer.

There was a long moment of silence before Cartman spoke again.

"All right, Kenneh… Do what you gotta do…" Cartman sighed, "You know where to find me."

"Thanks Cartman." Kenny said, managing to grin slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, whateveh…" Cartman grumbled before the phone cut off. Kenny flipped his cell closed, staring at it for a long moment. Cartman wasn't always the best person to have around, but there were times when Kenny was awfully glad he had him to call on. Even if it did look like their friendship was strained, or torturous, or all those other things people said it was, he knew that past the snide remarks and cruel jokes and hurtful, offhanded comments, Cartman was one of the few people who he could really trust.

He stood up finally, putting the cell back in his pocket. He went out onto the sidewalk and began retracing his steps back to the park. Kyle and Stan were probably still there, and then he could just wait until they started to go home, and wait for Kyle and him to be alone. He readied himself; there was a good chance he'd still have to put up with some more of Kyle's hidden attempts at touching Stan as much as possible, and he didn't want to break down when he saw it.

"Kenny!"

He glanced, surprised, to see Kyle dashing down the street towards him. The redhead ran up to him and threw his arms around Kenny's neck, nuzzling his face. Kenny could feel his breath on his skin, puffing along his neck.

"You just disappeared, babe," Kyle said, kissing his cheek quickly before pulling back to look at him, puzzled. "We were looking for you, where'd you go?"

"Uh, nowhere… I was… I was just going to go stop by the store…" Kenny said, staring at Kyle. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. "But then I remembered that I forgot my money at home, and I didn't feel like swiping anything…"

"Well, come on then…" Kyle said, grabbing Kenny's arm and getting ready to spin him around.

"Kyle…" Kenny stopped him, and Kyle looked back at him, grinning. "Kyle, I love you."

"Pfft, Kenny, dude," Kyle half-snickered, half-giggled, "That's cute but--"

"I'm serious." Kenny said softly, holding Kyle's gaze in his own. A second passed, and the glitter in Kyle's eyes faded, along with the smile on his face. He let Kenny's arm drop, and a strange look came to his face, a look like he'd just been betrayed.

Without another word, he spun around and walked back the way he'd came.

* * *

"Gawd-fucking-dammit, Kenneh, five fucking hours of my fucking life…" Cartman growled, aiming the water from the shower head at Kenny's hair with one hand and running the gloved fingers of the other through the heavily lightened strands to rinse them. "Five hours, Kenneh!"

"Sorry." Kenny said quietly, eyes closed against the harsh glare of the bathroom lights.

"And you couldn't wait like a fucking normal person while I went to the store to buy this shit, right? You just had to fucking go and fucking cut yourself, right?" Cartman growled some more, accidentally splashing some water on Kenny's face. The former-and-now-once-again blonde winced as the bleach-laced water got into his eyes.

"Ow, shit Cartman! That burns…" Kenny reached up one hand to wipe at his eyes desperately.

"That burns? Huh? _That_ burns?! How about you take off those bandages and put your fucking arms in there, huh?" Cartman shut off the water, letting the shower head fall into the tub with a clank. He tossed a towel onto Kenny's face and sat down on the bathtub edge to peel the latex gloves off his hands.

"Sounds like fun…" Kenny muttered, as he wiped his face off. Sitting down on the floor, he dragged the towel over his head a few times to get most of the water out of his hair.

Cartman tossed the wadded gloves at the wastebasket, snorting when he missed, then turned his attention back to his friend.

"And?" He asked simply. Kenny narrowed his eyes, looking hard at the bathroom floor. Cartman waited a moment, then sighed and pulled towel off the blonde's head sharply. "Kenneh…"

"…I don't know…" Kenny said finally, crossing his legs and laying his arms on his knees. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around them, sterile white dotted with red.

"Whaddya mean you don't know?" Cartman asked, then shoved him in the side with his toes when he didn't answer.

"I mean, I don't know." Kenny replied, not really clarifying anything.

"You come over to mah house, ask me to fucking help you bleach your hair back to fucking blond, and you _don't know_?" Cartman asked lowly. Kenny drew his shoulders into a hunch, gripping his hands together tightly and looking away. "Oh, you do know. You do know, you just don't want to tell me, right? Right Kenneh?"

Kenny closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His scalp was itching, and he felt lightheaded from all the time he spent head down in the bathtub. There was no sound, but suddenly Cartman was sitting on the floor next to him.

"Kenneh…" He said, leaning over to try and look him in the eye.

"He… he walked away…" Kenny admitted finally, still not turning to look at Cartman.

"He… what?" Cartman asked, surprised.

"He just… walked away. First, he sorta laughed, 'cause he wasn't expecting it…" Kenny felt his throat tighten, heard his voice get thick. He stumbled over the next words, "And… a-and then when I told… when I t-told him I was s-s-serious, he just… walked away…"

He stopped then, clenching his jaw and eyes shut tightly. His heart was beating painfully, raggedly. His breath was trying to come quick, and he was fighting it, struggling to keep it under control. Cartman stayed silent beside him.

"You… you were right, Cartman…" He choked out, nodding, "You were right."

"Dammit Kenneh!"

The sudden outburst, coupled with a loud thump, nearly knocked him over, and he turned to face the other boy, shocked. Cartman had one hand in his hair, gripping it tightly, the other fisted on the ground. His face was contorted with anger, but his eyes were focused on the ground, glinting with desperatoin.

"Dammit, you think I'm happy I'm right?" Cartman turned to him finally, eyes blazing. "You think I am? Fuck, Kenneh, it shouldn't have... You shouldn't have to… fuck!"  
He got up angrily and started pacing the room, restraining from punching at the wall as he got close to it. Kenny watched him, surprised, and let him fume in silence for a while. He'd expected Cartman to say something along the lines of "I told you so", or let him know in some other way that this was what he'd expected. This was definitely not the reaction Kenny had been expecting.

"So…" Cartman started, stopped. After a moment he started again, "So, what're you gonna do now?"

"I…" Kenny began, then stopped. He realized he hadn't really thought about it, had been focusing on the fact that what had happened had been an all out rejection.

"Well, you're a blond again…" Cartman said, letting out a deep breath as he leaned back against the sink. He fixed Kenny with a critical look. "That says something."

"Does it?" Kenny asked, looking up at Cartman.

"It says you don't wanna be a substitute anymore…" Cartman crossed his arms.

"I don't." Kenny let his eyes drop back to the floor as he felt the twisting start up in his stomach again. Writhing, twisting, agony.

"You want…_Kyle_… to see you, not Stan." Cartman added, hesitating at the one name as always. Kenny nodded silently, picking at the bandages on his arms. Cartman frowned, crouching down next to Kenny to slap his hand away. Lifting his hand, he turned Kenny's face towards him and fixed him with a long, hard look.

"And what if he doesn't?" He asked, feeling the blonde tremble.

"I…" Kenny moved his mouth, but words didn't come out. What would he do? What if Kyle couldn't see him, couldn't really see him?

"What if he says that he's going to forget what you said and you two can keep doing what you've been doing?" Cartman continued, his voice low. Kenny twitched, hands fidgeting in the fabric of his pants now.

"I…" He tried to speak again, but found he couldn't. He shook his head desperately, feeling the stinging in his eyes begin, and whispered, "I love him."

"What are you going to do Kenneh?" Cartman asked, his voice softer than before. Kenny let out a low whimper, shaking his head desperately. And Cartman was still looking at him, still waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, Cartman…" The tears were forming in his eyes, and he felt the first one trickle down his cheek. His mouth moved helplessly, quietly, a little longer before he repeated, "I don't know…"

He lifted his hands to cover his face, wishing Cartman would just stop looking at him, just stop being there. He could feel the sobs coming, starting deep in his chest before crushing their way through his windpipe. He felt his heart pounding against his ribs, the stinging pain starting deep inside him. Tears flowed down his face, dripping down off his chin. He brought his knees up, leaning into them, trying to hide. He felt so lost, felt so lost from everything.

He didn't know what to do, what to think of the situation. He didn't know what to do to make it better.

He didn't know.


End file.
